


The Beast Of The Bluffs

by mimityty



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: AU, Gen, Monsters, Redemption, kevin is carlos and cecil's roomie, monster!kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 22:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimityty/pseuds/mimityty
Summary: In a distant town, shrouded by the light of the blood moon, there is a scream. Then, it is gone, both from memory and history, never to be remembered or reminisced upon. It's not our business, after all. [monster!kevin au]





	1. On Air

**Author's Note:**

> I made this au with the help of my fiancé. Here, Kevin never went through the Old Oak Doors, instead moving into the new Night Vale/Desert Bluffs fusion and working on his redemption. He still has a radio show, but it's not mentioned here. He's also kinda maybe a werewolf-like wendigo-esque monster who only comes out during a blood moon? That's a little harder to explain.

**6:45 p.m.**

"The City Council urges listeners to stay inside during this phenomenon, and to  _ not. Look at. The moon.  _ Close all curtains and hide under your beds. It is in the light. Do not be tempted by any strange, but otherwise totally normal sounds you might not even  _ hear  _ coming from your windows. That screaming? Why, it's just the old cats down the alley! Boy, do they like to scream. And that weird light in the mirror? Why do you even  _ have  _ that mirror? That's not allowed! Report that in to the Sheriff's secret police for immediate arrest. And this has been: traffic."

Cecil Palmer sat at his desk with a warm smile, looking down at his lines and speaking sweetly to the listeners of his quiet town's radio station with that charismatic voice everyone knew and loved. His tone didn't seem to truly reflect his inner demons, though, and anyone with good eyes (no offense meant towards the Faceless Old Woman) could see his worry. Tonight was the night of the Blood Moon, an astronomical phenomenon previously only seen during Remembrance Day which now appeared more frequently. This, of course, was known to be due to the sudden approach and similar ending of the Blood Space War -- while the battle raged on, or did not, it seemed to be coming to a climax-standstill of the most and least blood spilled on these certain days. Wherever it was in time and space, it continued to near, continue, and end all at once, marked by the blood-red color of the moon in the night sky. Cecil would have usually been fine, staying up throughout the night to help Carlos with his research and make them both some themed desserts, but now it was different. Now, he was scared.

Ever since Desert Bluffs had assimilated in with his friendly desert community, the glowing red sand seemed to hold its color in the mornings. At first, it was presumed to be some sort of ritual-- those Bluffs did love their rituals-- but even they seemed shaken by the blood left in the morning light. City Council did not like this one bit, no sir! Immediately, they began advising folks to stay inside during these nights, but the blood continued to flow. Carlos had wanted to research this at first, but quickly realized why he'd rather stay inside this one time.

Even the thought of that night made Cecil shudder. It had been warm and dry, the red moonlight illuminating the streets like a bloodstone ritual, and Carlos, without telling a soul, had set up his data-finding machines. The radio host couldn't remember their names for the life of him. Turns out he didn't need to. As the eager scientist waited outside for the blood to appear, a massive shape loomed over the sand, standing over him with teeth, bloody and bared, smiling as wide as a smile could go. He didn't have time to run before it slashed one massive claw down his back and cut his skin as easily as a knife through butter. Before it could continue its onslaught, however, he was grabbed and pulled inside an empty house by an angel (who was still coming to terms with its existence). He didn't come home for two days. When he did, Cecil made him promise he would never go out to see this thing again. He didn't.

Everyone in Night Vale knew the excuses formed by the Mayor and Sheriff were manipulated truths. As convincing as their ice sculptures were, the citizens had decided to take thinking into their own hands. Anyone who expressed this, however, was detained and forcefully re-educated until they believed the myths. Eventually, the town's questioning came to a close, but while the blood-red nights frequented Night Vale more and more, it soon became inevitable that the truth would soon come to light.

Tonight was specifically worrying for Cecil over others for one specific reason: his house guest. Kevin, Desert Bluffs' old radio host, had recently been forced out of his home and allowed to stay with Cecil and Carlos. It had been a few months since the last blood moon, and tonight, Kevin would experience his first in the Palmer residency. As friendly as they'd all become, Cecil had never been with a past-Desert Bluffs resident during this time, and had really only heard stories of what they were like. His guest had been sick these past few days, though, and while he feared for his health, he couldn't put down the suspicion that he was up to something. Was he conducting a ritual? He  _ was  _ some sort of famed prophet, after all -- it would make sense that if he knew about the monster Carlos spoke of, he'd try to summon it. Maybe he just needed some alone time, but did that really constitute the blood seeping under the doors after hours? Maybe, of course, this was all just speculation, and he was overthinking things. Carlos' attack  _ had  _ left him wary of this event. Despite his efforts, Cecil couldn't keep himself from thinking about that night, and although his voice remained cool and monotone, his tattoos swam about his body like nervous fish while his eyes strained just a  _ little  _ too hard to read the words in front of him.

Just then: a note, slipped under his door and folded neatly into an origami tie to signify its official stature.

"Oh- listeners, it appears that station management is having us wrap up our broadcast early, due to- oh. Most… of this letter has been redacted. I think it just says- wait, no, that's more redacted text. Alright. Stay tuned next for the sound of a record player coming from your neighbor's house and playing a song you think you might have heard in your childhood while you flip your television through random channels to distract yourself from that haunting feeling of dread despite your nostalgia. Good night, Night Vale, good night."

As the  _ ON AIR  _ signed blinked for the last time, Cecil removed his headphones and set them down, reminding himself to breathe as his shaky hands moved to lock the station doors behind him.


	2. Sunsets, Steaks, And Scientists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A radio host and a scientist sit down for dinner while the blood moon rises behind them. What could possibly go wrong?

**7:15 p.m.**

"Cecil! You're home early!"

As the voice of his husband rang through his ears, Cecil breathed a sigh of relief and hung his denim-and-fur cloak at the door before coming up behind Carlos in the kitchen and wrapping his arms around him.

"Oh! There's my man. Dinner will be ready in just a sec. John Peters-- you know, the farmer?-- gave me a few tips on invisible popcorn making. I was thinking, maybe you and I could snuggle up tonight and watch a movie…?"

Cecil smiled. "That sounds… neat."

Carlos chuckled and turned away from his simmering pan to face Cecil, then wrapping his arms around him and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Is everything okay, my love?"

"I'm just fine. A little worried about Kevin, maybe, but otherwise fine."

"I am, too. But I'm sure tonight will be okay. Wanna know how I know?"

"How's that?"

"Because a scientist is always fine. And tonight…" Carlos ran a hand through Cecil's hair and lowered his voice to an excited whisper. "You and I… are gonna run some experiments."

Cecil pulled away.

After a moment of stunned silence, Carlos realized what was going through his husband's mind, then looking down and turning back to his pan.

"Carlos, I hope you don't mean-"

"No, no. Nothing like that. We'll worry about it after dinner, okay?"

He didn't get a response.

**7:45 p.m.**

Carlos set a finely-seasoned steak down on the dinner table with a smile, then kissing Cecil's cheek and making a small plate to take back to Kevin's room. As he headed back, the radio host took a moment to close the drapes and lock the doors, watching the sun begin to set in the distance. He, personally, knew that there was nothing bad in the moonlight. All he could hope was that Carlos believed what he heard on the radio.

**9:00 p.m.**

Dinner went surprisingly well. The previous tension was quickly broken once Carlos had returned, smiling at how quickly Kevin had taken his food and thanked him for it. They cracked jokes, laughed, smiled, and even cried after Cecil told a particularly funny chemistry joke he'd picked up from one of the joke books Tamika had given him. As they finished speaking (having finished their food four conversations ago), the two of them got up to wash their plates, smiling slightly to themselves in each other's presence. Carlos broke the silence first.

"Cecil… about the experiment."

His face quickly dropped. "Carlos, I-"

"No, no, no! It's really nothing like that, I promise! Give me a minute and I can show you exactly what I meant. Do you trust me?"

Cecil sighed and looked over at his husband, then giving him a small nod and tilting his head. "Carlos, of  _ course  _ I trust you."

"Good. Stay right here. I love you."

The scientist pressed a little kiss to Cecil's cheek before putting his plate away and moving over to the hall closet, then pulling out an old record player and leaving it in the center of their living room. Cecil laughed.

"Carlos, what-"

"Trust me! Trust me, it'll be good. This will be my best experiment yet."

He set the needle on the record and let it play, a gentle melody flowing from the speakers as the scientist walked over to his husband. Gently taking the glass from his hand, Carlos set aside Cecil's dishes and led him to the living room, then holding him close with a sheepish smile and looking down at the ground.

"When I was a kid, I was always interested in science. My whole  _ life  _ has been science. Then… I met you. And things started to change. Everything was nothing and nothing meant everything. My work evolved, and so did I. Because of everything that's changed, because of  _ you…  _ I started to wonder if I could be more than just a scientist. And I can! I'm a husband, a friend, an interloper -- and I realized, you've been the one to help me with all of this. So, I have a request." He paused before continuing, meeting Cecil's eyes to accompany his plea. "I've… never been a good dancer. Do you think you could teach me?"

Cecil paused. Then grinned. Then laughed. He laughed like he'd never laughed before, as if this was the funniest thing in the world. For a moment, Carlos almost looked hurt.

"What? What is it? I knew it was a stupid request, but-"

"No, no! It's not- it's not that, Carlos. I just…"

"What?"

"...I never learned to dance, either."

Carlos paused. Then grinned. Then laughed like never before.

The scientist and the radio host began to sway in each other's arms, humming to a tune that they both vaguely knew, but couldn't quite place. Somewhere nearby, a television flickers to life.


	3. The Exodus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A great beast is unleashed.

**10:30 p.m.**

A crash shook the house.

The blood moon had risen, and now stood as a paragon of light in the night sky. Blood red moonlight, filtered through the drapes, painted Cecil and Carlos in a morbid mimicry of blood as they turned to look down the hall.  _ Could it be…? _

They shared a look before pulling away, yet not too far from each other, and raced down the hall, a haunting tune accompanying their journey. Cecil banged on the door with his fist while Carlos called out to their sick houseguest.

"Kevin? What happened, are you okay?"

No response. At least, nothing audible over the record player. Cecil speaks next.

"Kevin, if you don't say something, we're coming in! This is for safety reasons!"

Still nothing. Cecil's knuckles go white.

After a moment, Carlos gives Cecil a little nod, then grabs the handle and pushes his way into the room. The next few seconds happened like a blur.

It was all too much for Cecil to take in at once -- his eyes darted between parts of the scene rapidly, trying to form a picture in his mind as to what was going on: blood littered the floors and walls, as did dead things and body parts; raw meat, half-eaten, rested on Kevin's bloodstained bed; scratch marks, like claws, had torn their way through the wallpaper and hardwood floors, both stained by the things mentioned before; the largest shock, a gaping hole in the wall leading outside as a beast stood in its wake, bathed in the deep red moonlight as well as what seemed to be the blood of something long dead. It wasn't looking at them-- not at first, at least-- but when it did, Cecil covered his mouth in shock.

"Kevin…?"

And just like that, it was gone. Galloping hideously into the night with a chorus of clicks and gurgles, the beast disappeared in the clouds of sand and dust it left behind it. Cecil was still; Carlos was not. Falling to his knees, the scientist lifted blood-soaked pages and shook them off, narrowing his eyes and attempting to make out the smeared writing with determination.

"Carlos, do you think…"

"I… yes, Cecil, I do. And I  _ also  _ think we need to do something about it." Carlos brought the pages to his chest and passed Cecil to return to the hall, the radio host following them into their room as the scientist laid them under a lamp to dry them.

"Wait- what do you mean, 'do something?' You're not going back out there, Carlos! You've seen what he's done to you!"

"Yes, and I know what he would've done! He could be doing that to anyone right now!"

"Carlos, I- I can't let you back out there, I'm sorry."

The scientist narrowed his eyes and focused harder on the pages. "If… if you really care about the good of Night Vale, Cecil, you'll help me. We can't just let Kevin roam free like that! You've seen the blood!"

"Well, if you really care about  _ me,  _ Carlos-"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU!"

The scientist turned to Cecil with anger in his expression, immediately backing down once he saw tears forming in his husband's eyes.

"I… I'm sorry, Cecil. I didn't mean for it to-"

"No, it's- it's fine, I understand. This… is for the good of Night Vale."

"Cecil, you  _ know  _ I care about you, and I know you don't want me to get hurt. I just need-"

"I said I  _ understand,  _ Carlos. Please, just- do what you need to do."

"Cecil-"

He gave him a look. Carlos understood.

As Cecil walked out of their room, he paused in the doorway, sighing and glancing over his shoulder.

"Promise me… promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"I need to do whatever I can to save Kevin, Cecil, you know that."

"I know. I… I know."

He walked down the hall into a living room full of static. The record had ended. Quickly, though, he was joined by his husband, holding him close from behind and nuzzling his shoulder.

"I promise, Cecil. I'm coming home tonight one way or another. I love you."

He closed his eyes, more tears finding their way down his cheeks and staining the floor below him.

"I love you, too."


	4. Revelations Of The Prophet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos makes a breakthrough. Cecil makes a plan. Kevin makes a sound.

****

**12:00 a.m.**

After worrying for much too long, Cecil heard Carlos come running from their room and shifted over on the couch where he'd been resting, making room for the scientist as he sat and showed Cecil the writings he'd taken the time to transcribe onto clean paper.

"Look, Cecil! It says here that this beast only comes around during the blood moon, and direct contact with the sun dispels its form."

"That's wonderful, but I don't think you can-"

"It  _ is  _ wonderful, my love! That means he'll be back to normal at sunrise! Now, I haven't found any prevention methods of this transformation, and it doesn't seem like it can be stopped right now, but it's written that it can be communicated with. See?"

Cecil looked down at the pages and made a face as he began to read the scripture written in front of him.

 

_ "Cease," the prophet declared, "For I am _

_ Your master, a voice of the Smiling God," _

_ And the Great Beast obeyed, for it would _

_ Always obey the will of the man who had _

_ Brought his host to the Congregation. _

 

"See?" Carlos was almost grinning in glee. "It can be controlled!"

Cecil frowned. "Carlos, this doesn't seem right. It-  _ he  _ doesn't seem to be in control. I saw his eyes when he left, and he just… looked right through me."

"Well, what if it's that combination of words? I can make that outfit the prophet is wearing!"

"And what if this doesn't work?"

"Well, I guess we'll see. Cecil, don't worry so much."

"Carlos, you had to be saved by an an-" Cecil paused and leaned in. "An  _ angel  _ last time! Erika won't be around to help you now. Even then, you still have the scars!"

"Yes, Cecil, I do. Thanks for that. I can't believe you don't trust me!"

"Carlos, it isn't about that! Please, I'm just worried for you…"

"Cecil, if…" Carlos sighed. "If it makes you feel any better, I… did find a way to… hurt it."

"Carlos!"

"Not kill it! I wouldn't want to  _ kill it _ . It's still…  _ he's  _ still Kevin. But if I need to protect myself, I really don't have any other choice."

Cecil sighed, then nodded a bit. "I suppose you're right. What did you find?" His husband shuffled through the papers a bit more before handing one to him, which he once again squinted to read.

 

_ No bullets nor knives did pierce the flesh _

_ of the Great Beast, whose armor proved _

_ Mighty with the protection of the Smiling _

_ God, and the Beast smiled wider as the _

_ Non-Believers hailed down their rain of _

_ Useless attacks -- it was no such attack _

_ That downed the Great Beast, however, _

_ As its trust left it unguarded against the _

_ Attacks of its prophet, who once rode _

_ Its back to victory but was now under _

_ Its chest; his holy blade, blessed by _

_ The Joyous Congregation and dipped _

_ In his own blood, pierced the skin of _

_ The Great Beast's neck and let it _

_ Bleed. Howling in pain, it retreated _

_ Into the desert, where it then cried _

_ For days and nights until its voice _

_ Gave way. Upon the return of the _

_ Great Beast to its prophet, it could _

_ Only speak in broken cries, and _

_ Never again betrayed its master. _

 

Cecil read it over once, then twice more before returning the paper to Carlos, then looking away with a frown. "Carlos, there's no way you're going to be able to find-"

Carlos held up a blade. Cecil blinked.

"Steve gave it to me as an engagement gift. I think he thought I was a survivalist instead of a scientist for the first few years I was here. I guess it makes more sense here. I use it for dissecting things I can't use a scalpel for."

"And how do you plan on having it blessed by whatever weird church it came from? Nobody's allowed out of their homes tonight, and I don't want you 'bathing it in your blood'."

"Actually, if you look close enough, it says you only really need enough to mark the hilt. It was the blessing that supposedly gave this blade its power. Though I'm not really sure how that works…"

Cecil sat for a moment in thought as Carlos shifted impatiently. After a moment, his husband began to speak. "I know you don't really want to hear about this stuff, and I'm sorry. I'll keep my phone on and I'll call you if things get-"

"I'm coming with you."

Carlos stopped in surprise. "What? Cecil, you know you don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to. If I can be absolutely sure you're going to be safe, I'll do whatever it takes. Besides, Kevin is my friend, too. We're in this together."

Carlos smiled. "Right. Together. God, I love you. Okay, step one- the quicker we do this, the better. We don't need any casualties, but we can't be seen, either. The first thing I'm gonna need to do is sneak into the church. The scripture confirms that these guys stay up during blood moons, but it seems like the beast would scare them into doing whatever needed to be done. Here, look." He pointed to another page.

 

_ The eyes of the Great Beast bore heavy _

_ Onto the souls of the weary, great teeth _

_ Gnashing and claws giving them the _

_ Direction they needed to go on, doing _

_ Their holy work and smiling as wide as _

_ The Great Beast itself. O, Joyous Work! _

 

"It seems like they'd be doing something together in the church. If we're lucky, they'll be distracted, but we also need their attention to get the blade blessed."

"What if I did it? That way, if something goes wrong, I can come in, but otherwise Kevin won't have to worry! It'd make me feel better if you didn't have to spill any blood tonight, too."

"It'll still need to be my blood, but otherwise, that works! You're so smart, Cecil." He blushed. Carlos continued. "Once I have the robes and you have the blade, we'll need to go find him. Kevin seems to like staying in town, as evident by the bloodstains on our streets, so that shouldn't be too hard. We still have the issue of  _ us,  _ though."

"If the secret police or the vague, yet menacing government agency see us…"

"I assume they've tried to detain or kill Kevin before. If they see us with him, we might get caught in the crossfire. Regardless, we're not supposed to be going out at  _ all _ . One way or another, we have to stay unseen. I don't know where we'll find him, but we can try to lure him out of town. I still have some steaks in the freezer."

"Do you really think that'll work?"

"I hope so. He seems to want to… feed. As long as nobody else gets involved, he won't get angry. I think the only reason he went after me when he did was because of my machines. He really didn't like the sounds they were making. Destroyed those first, actually."

"Carlos, once he's under our control-- if it even happens-- what do we do? We can't prevent this from happening, and we can't just… let him suffer!"

He paused. "I… don't really know. I guess we'll find out once we get to that point."

Another crash made them jump as a dark shape flew past their windows.

"We need to act  _ fast,  _ Cecil," Carlos insisted, folding the scripture and putting it inside a messenger bag. "Here. Take this." He handed him the blade, which the radio host held for a moment before letting it rest in the loop of his neon orange tuxedo shorts. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Taking his husband's hand, Cecil unlocked his door, stepped outside, and truly bathed in the blood red moonlight for the first time in years.


	5. Blood Of The Herald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos pay the Joyous Congregation a visit.

**1:00 a.m.**

After quite a walk (no cars -- they had to stay hidden), Cecil and Carlos approached the doors to The Joyous Congregation of the Smiling God and took a deep breath, each in turn. Squeezing his lover's hand, the radio host knocked on the door and was almost immediately met by a friendly stranger with a smile that seemed all too familiar to him.

"Greetings, Cecil Palmer! Cecil's husband. What brings you two to our little slice of paradise at this fine hour?"

Cecil forced a nervous smile, relaxing when he felt Carlos give his hand a squeeze in return and responding a bit more naturally. "Good evening! We know it's late, and we're not supposed to be outside, but we were wondering if we could observe the lovely blood moon from here and-"

The two were quickly pulled inside, doors closing behind them as the young man before them led them inside. "Well, of course! Follow me, please!"

Carlos pulled back from the group and looked down the hall before giving Cecil a wink. "Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow a change of clothes."

"What's wrong with the ones you have on now, friend?"

"Oh, they're all… science...y. You know how it is with science!"

The man made a little face when he said that word, but otherwise let his wide, wide grin remain and pointed Carlos towards a room down the hallway.

"Don't have too much fun, friend! Haha!" Returning to Cecil's side, he gave him a friendly hug and continued to lead him towards the main congregation hall.

"Now, mister-"

"McEvans! But, please, call me Jessi.  _ Please. _ "

"Alright, Jessi… what do you say you do around here on these types of days?"

"Around here, those of us who can attend our ceremonies will do so without fail! Each blood moon, we read our Prophet's scripture and worship the Smiling God, devoting our time to working non-stop until the sun rises! Typically, our church will apply itself wherever it can, but today, we honor our past by doing whatever it is that can be done!"

"Honor your past? What do you mean?"

"Jessi! A little help?"

A young girl, sitting by a pew, looked up, but quickly rushed over once she realized that the church had a visitor.

"Hello, and welcome! Who is this?"

"Adah, this is Cecil. He's Night Vale's radio host."

"Oh, wonderful!" Her eyes lit up like stars. "Our Prophet Kevin was a radio host as well! You two definitely do look alike!"

"Adah, I was just telling Cecil about our rituals tonight. Care to help explain what happened to give us these rituals?"

"Why, of course! See, not too long ago, StrexCorp had us working non-stop to reach our full potential. Even though our employer is gone, the passion for work still rises in our hearts!"

Cecil thought back to the scriptures he'd read.  _ O, Joyous Work!  _ He shuddered.

"That's right, Adah! Now, we may not have the same jobs we did while employed by StrexCorp, but that doesn't mean we can't still work! Tonight, we think back to the gift of life the Great Beast gave us when we worked as hard as we did. Knowing it's still out there gives us all the more reason to do our jobs!"

"And what  _ are  _ your jobs, exactly?" Cecil looked around the dimly-lit congregation and watched as the dozen or so other members continued doing… whatever it was they were doing.

"Well, just about anything! Me, I've been repairing the pews. Jessi has been waiting at the doors for visitors. Everyone here has a job and does it well! If we didn't, we'd be devoured before it was time, so  _ clearly  _ we're doing what needs to be done!"

Upon closer inspection, Cecil realized just what everyone was doing -- nothing. A few members hammered in nails in the floorboards that didn't need hammering; a few others centered portraits to perfection, only to hang them again in different orders; even above him, congregation members sat on support beams, painting over walls that had no need to be painted. Everyone knew that this church was centered on fear, but he never really understood the point of their faith until now.  _ They think their work protects them. _

Suddenly, he remembered his task: to bless the knife he needed to protect Carlos. "Actually, if you have the time, I had a favor to ask of you."

"Anything for our second favorite radio host!" Jessi didn't see the problem in his backhanded compliment, and Cecil didn't have the time to complain. He took the knife from his side and held it out in his hand.

"I need this blessed, if you have the time."

"Oh, sure! What blessing do you need on it?"

Cecil froze. He didn't know what blessing he needed, all he knew is that he needed a blessing at all! "I… uh… the one… from the scripture…?"

Jessi laughed. "They're  _ all  _ from the scripture, silly! Do you know which book?"

Cecil reached in his pockets before cursing under his breath, realizing then that Carlos had the pages of scripture with him.  _ Guess I'll have to be blunt.  _ "The blessing… on the prophet's blade. The one he used against K- against the Great Beast."

The room went silent. Any side conversations had ceased, and the air around Cecil was thick with tension as he felt the eyes of the congregation members boring a hole into his skull. Jessi took a step forwards. Cecil took a step back.

"Cecil, why in the world would you  _ ever  _ need a blessing that could hurt the Great Beast? Only our old prophet had that power, and even he only used it when it was absolutely necessary. You're not being threatened by it, are you? I guarantee a hard day's work will keep it at bay."

"No, no! It's not actually  _ for  _ the Great Beast. It's for… for…"

"For your Prophet Kevin," came a voice from behind. Cecil turned to look and saw Carlos, adorned in the old prophet's cloak and standing strong. "And the prophet spoke unto the non-believers, 'all who do not smile shall see the beauty in joy,' and opened their cheeks until their smiles bled with happiness, leading even the most stubborn of the resistance to the light…"

"And all was well," the congregation chorused, finishing Carlos' quote and nodding in agreement.

"You  _ know  _ Kevin?" Adah questioned, to which Carlos replied with only a nod. "You are a believer, then. I wish unto you the best."

Taking the hunting knife from Cecil's hands, Jessi motioned the congregation over and spoke. "Brothers, sisters, family. We are here today to give praise to our Smiling God for the gifts he has bestowed upon us today. With this blessing, we bestow upon a mortal's possession a gift: the acknowledgement of something greater, greater than all of us! Herald of Kevin's great messages, approach."

Carlos approached the congregation, which was now formed in a semicircle around Jessi as he held the knife to the air. Cecil stepped back, watching as he took Carlos' wrist and pressed the tip of the blade to his palm, then retracted it as blood dripped down the shiny metal. It was barely a pinprick -- seeing this  _ definitely  _ hurt Cecil more than it did Carlos.

"With the blood of this holy messenger, may the joy of passion and drive guide this blade to bring many more smiles to the world. We bless you with dreams of the Devouring, however soon it may be, and that the wielder of this blade may know no resistance in his journey towards the Smiling God. Carlos, now and future herald of our Prophet Kevin: you are given this gift of new life to give unto others. Do you accept?"

"I do."

"Then it is done. Walk into the light of the blood moon, and hold your blade to the night sky: then your blessing will be-"

_ Crash. _


	6. The Beast Of The Bluffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great Beast makes an entrance.

**1:15 a.m.**

Shattered glass rained down against the group as they attempted to shield themselves, a loud, broken screech coming from the doors. They turned to see just what had broken the stained glass windows beside the entrance and found themselves faced with something the congregation members had seen all too much of in their past.

"The Great Beast! It's here!"

And there it was, a great, hulking beast, having burst its way into the church and standing only feet away from a mural depicting its works in the past. Only now, Cecil could get a good look at it, and he immediately felt pain knowing that Kevin was in that thing somewhere. Its tall, thin body loosely wore its fur, cutting off at its joints. Razor-sharp claws dug into the carpet below it as its horned head reared back, the beast giving an ugly cry with its many mouths which echoed through the church's halls for much too long. Tail swishing and tongue flicking in curiosity, it hungered; Cecil  _ knew  _ it hungered, and he knew that if he and Carlos had any chance of surviving this, they should run,  _ now _ .

Apparently he'd said that last part out loud-- either that or he and Carlos were on the same wavelength-- as his husband quickly grabbed his hand and ran into the hall he came from earlier. Shouts of "back to work" and "I can't believe it's here" came from the main hall as they ran, followed by screams, though of delight or horror, Cecil couldn't tell.

"Come on! There's a back door!"

Cecil snapped out of his daze and looked on ahead, noticing the double doors in the back of the church that he'd failed to notice before. Running faster, he came closer and closer, but quickly realized that something was off. Something… something…

"Cecil!"

He turned to look behind him as Adah ran towards him, reaching out but quickly falling and screaming as the beast behind her grabbed her by the leg and devoured her without a second thought. His shock didn't last long, though, as Carlos was quickly forcing him into a sprint towards the door. It was right behind them, the beast-- not Kevin anymore,  _ the beast _ \-- and Cecil knew that he wouldn't make it to the door in time. This was no discouragement, however, as he quickly yelled over to his partner as they ran:

"STOP!"

Without questioning it, they let go of each other's hands and stopped, the beast flying past them and crashing into the doors. It tumbled and skidded to a stop, giving Cecil and Carlos an opportunity to get outside before it had the chance to shake off its fall.

"Carlos! We have to hide!"

"What? What about the plan?"

"There's no time! It won't stop!"

"Cecil, I have to try! For Night Vale! For  _ Kevin _ !"

"There is no Kevin there now! He wouldn't kill half of his own congregation!"

As the two argued and ran, the beast had found its footing and was already barreling towards them again, screeching and aiming its antlers towards them in a bull-like fashion.

"The blade, Carlos, the blade!"

"I can't hurt him! Not yet!"

"You can  _ control  _ it! Just hold it up and say the scripture! I'm sure it'll-"

The two were knocked off their feet as the beast barreled its body towards them, its antlers cutting deep into Cecil's shoulder and knocking the two away from each other. They each flew into the air and fell on opposite sides of what they soon realized was the mayoral platform, used for emergency press conferences and pie eating contests on particularly slow days. Head spinning, the radio host blinked and looked around for his husband, trying to stand but quickly falling as he felt a sharp pain in his leg.  _ A broken bone. _

"Carlos! C-Carlos-"  _ I'm not getting anywhere like this! I need to- _

Before he could finish his thought, a shriek came from his side, his eyes following the beast as it walked backwards and away from whatever threat was present. That threat soon made itself clear to Cecil as the Sheriff's secret police, followed closely by members of a vague, yet menacing government agency, both holding their weapons of choice (those being megaphones and guns) and advancing on the beast.

"BIG SCARY MONSTER! CAN YOU HEAR US? ONE ROAR FOR YES, TWO ROARS FOR-"

The secret police member screamed as the beast opened its jaws and devoured him whole. To Cecil's surprise, cheering came from his other side, but he didn't even have to look to realize what was going on. The surviving members of the congregation, led by Jessi, applauded the beast, who didn't really seem to care much for them at all. It was mainly focused on the men with various weapons who were quickly advancing, but his teeth and claws made quick work of them. The radio host could only watch as the beast killed those around it, one by one, removing a good portion of the opposing forces (and a smaller portion of the remaining congregation members) before turning to him.

"Oh- no, no, no- K-Kevin, it's me! It's- it's Cecil, I-"

The beast didn't listen, focused solely on charging him, and with a gutteral screech, advanced upon him and opened its mouth to-

"CEASE!"

The beast turned its head from Cecil and focused on the source of the noise. There he was, dressed in a cloak and wielding a blade which shined in the moonlight: Carlos, the herald, the scientist, and the shockingly good-looking husband for someone dressed as a cultist and bathed in red moonlight. Even now, Cecil could hear his heart flutter. The beast, however, could not. In fact, it couldn't seem to hear anything. As far as Cecil could tell, its attention was solely on the blade held high in Carlos' hand, eyes widening and teeth baring as it roared in anger and began to charge him instead. Faster. And Faster. And Faster.

"For I- I am your… master…" Carlos hesitated and watched as the beast came closer and closer, then stepping back in fear as it approached. He turned and ran, but nothing, no one, could outrun the beast. He didn't stand a chance.

Bullets soared through the air as it ran, the beast only getting angrier by the moment as they bounced off of his skin uselessly. Closer and closer he came, Cecil forcing himself to stand and ignoring the pain as he limped towards his husband, but it was truly no use. Just like it had when Cecil first saw the beast, time stood still, just for a moment.

There was truly too much going on for him to be able to focus on the big picture, but that didn't matter now. He kept his eyes on Carlos and called out his name, watching as Kevin leapt onto him with a spine-chilling shriek and hearing his cry for help before going quiet.

Then, there was a noise. Something no one here had heard in a very, very long time.

The beast stepped away from Carlos' body, looked up into the sky, and howled. It was a long, broken howl, one that had been forgotten even to the monster itself -- a howl of mourning.


	7. What Was Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night Vale holds its breath for a moment.

**1:30 a.m.**

Cecil was sure he was the only one who could hear Kevin's cry, as the government agents continued to unload their ammunition into the beast and the secret police members continued to shout into their megaphones things like, "WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER THINK IF SHE SAW YOU LIKE THIS," and, "I'M GONNA COUNT TO 3, AND IF YOU DON'T CUT IT OUT BY THEN, WHY, I OUGHTA…" which would be procedurally followed by shaken fists and harsh glares. The beast, of course, didn't care. As it lowered its head, Cecil lowered his own, the shock of what had just occurred still setting in as he waited for the screams he expected to hear from the others.

But they never came. In their stead came worried mumblings as the government agents attempted to reload, the beast only glaring at them and standing protectively over Carlos' limp body. After a moment, it growled and bared its teeth, then charging at the agents but not attacking them -- in fact, its claws were retracted and additional mouths closed, and at this point the monster seemed to only be using its features for intimidation purposes. Cecil looked up and watched as it used just the front of its teeth to destroy and spit out the secret police's many megaphones, then doing the same with the vague, yet menacing government agent's weapons, leaving the group unarmed and unprepared for whatever was going to happen next. The beast only stared at them. They couldn't stare back.

It wasn't long before they retreated in favor of getting more guns and megaphones, leaving the beast alone with Carlos and Cecil once more, who it seemed to forget about until the radio host tried to move. He whimpered in pain before realizing what he'd done, then meeting the beast's eyes and watching as it advanced on him as well, opening its mouth and forcing him to close his eyes as he waited for death to come as it had his husband.

Death did not come to Cecil on that night, unless that's what you'd like to name the beast's tongue. It curled itself around Cecil's arm wound before pulling back, the beast giving a little whine before bending down to grip Cecil's shirt with its front teeth and dragging him along.

_ Oh, god. I'm going to be eaten later. Just end my suffering now. _

This was not the beast's plan. Instead, it roughly dragged Cecil by his collar across the ground, not caring about what scars or cuts it may have caused along the way, and set him down elsewhere.

"What are you-" Cecil turned to his side and went pale. "C-Carlos-  _ Carlos-!" _

Forcing himself to sit up, he inched closer to his husband and sobbed softly, watching the beast as it lowered its head to the scientist's chest and- whimpered?

The beast- Kevin- sniffed him and nudged his chest with his massive snout, making an assortment of clicks and gurgles as if in an attempt to communicate. He seemed to be getting more frantic with his actions by the moment, and Cecil swore he could read fear in his expressions when Kevin turned to face him, making a loud clicking noise and pawing the dirt.

"Are you- what are you trying to-"

He repeated the series of clicks again, then again, cutting himself off before the third time and nuzzling Cecil's chest roughly as he did so. The radio host gently pushed the beast's snout away, but found it quickly came back to his chest -- instead, he pet it gently, to which he was met with a great force which sent him falling towards his dead lover.

No.

Not dead.

Breathing. Unconscious, but breathing. Cecil gasped and sat up, pulling Carlos' head into his lap and just listening to him breathe for a moment as tears flowed down his cheeks. The beast, eventually, gave a new series of sounds, then pressing his nose to the scientist's side.

"Is there something there…?"

The beast repeated the action. Cecil pushed Carlos over onto his side and noticed, for the first time, gashes, cutting deep into his forearm bleeding much too heavily to heal normally. Cecil could only stare before snapping himself out of his daze and looking up, then setting Carlos' head down on the ground and trying to stand before collapsing with a sob. Kevin looked guilty at this, too, and must've been; otherwise, he wouldn't have knelt.

"Are you… offering a ride?"

The beast closed its eyes. Cecil accepted.

Cecil climbed onto the beast's back as it lifted Carlos up in its jaws, doing its best to be as harmless as it could be but both of them knowing that it wasn't really possible. With one final screech into the night, Kevin began to run, racing past home after home, faster and faster until Night Vale became a red-tinted blur.

**2:00 a.m.**

The beast knew exactly where to go to get them home. Cecil had patched up Carlos' arm with bits of his shirt during the ride so he didn't bleed out, but knew that he had better materials at home. Cecil descended from his back as Kevin set Carlos down at their porch, then making a new assortment of noises as he stood up straight once more.

"...thank you. I didn't think you… knew who we were. That's you in there, right, Kevin?"

He exhaled sharply and clicked. Before Cecil could continue, he tried to run off again, leaping up to try to grab some portion of the roof before gurgling in pain and falling. As he fell, the radio host could see exactly what was causing this.

"Woah, woah! Take it easy there, Kev. Hold still…"

He approached the beast slowly, holding his hands out as it growled and knelt its head down. Cecil bowed his head as well before coming up close, then dropping to his knees and grabbing the hilt of the so-called "blessed blade" which had been buried in one of Kevin's forelegs.

"Hold still, okay? I'm gonna take this out. I don't even know if you can understand me…"

He pulled out the blade in one sharp motion, causing Kevin to rear back and slash out of fear -- his claws dug into Cecil's chest, and for a moment, he feared that maybe this was all a dream, some fabrication he'd made of a sand beast's humanity as it tore him to shreds. But that was not the case.

Kevin immediately stepped back in shock, the blood of the beast staining the sand below him as he gurgled and clicked in Cecil's direction. The host looked down at his wounds in fear. They weren't nearly deep enough to kill him -- quite the contrary, actually. They were bleeding, yes, but they'd barely dug an inch into his skin, acting more as thick papercuts than anything else.

"No, no, Kevin, I'm fine. You barely-" by the time he looked up, all that was left was dust. "Kevin?"

The radio host turned to see the shape of the beast running deep into the desert wastes, crackling and gurgling until there was nothing left to hear. As Kevin left the two alone to care for themselves, confused agents and policemen roamed the streets, scratching their heads and wondering where the beast of the Bluffs had gone off to. Cecil knew. And he knew that he wouldn't come back until he was ready.

He was just fine with that.


	8. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment passes.

**6:45 p.m.**

Cecil didn't come into work the next day, and neither did Carlos. In fact, once the scientist had woken up, they both agreed to take the next few days off and instead work on projects from home. They wanted to clean up Kevin's room and repair his wall, but that was physical labor they couldn't dedicate themselves to. Well, they  _ shouldn't _ , but they did. Who cares if a few cuts were reopened? Kevin likes blood, anyways.

The town went into a state of recovery that it went to after every blood moon. When it wasn't a monster, it was rituals, or teenagers experiencing their first blood moon harvest. One way or another, the blood and chaos was inevitable, and that inevitability kept the town thriving as much as it did. Night Vale continued on as usual, the Joyous Congregation held their annual recruitment drive early, and the secret police and government agents said nothing, instead miming out just how cool they were fighting the giant demon that was going to destroy the city. Of course, no one believed them. It's been a while since their stories have been believable.

Kevin was another story, and that story was not really anyone's business. He didn't come back the next day, or the next, or the next. It would be weeks before anyone saw him again, and even longer before he returned to his usual schedule and activities. No one knew this, of course, and why should it matter? Life goes on, with or without the familiar presence of family and friends. It was hard for Cecil and Carlos to come to terms with him being gone, yes, and for a short while they truly believed he was never coming back, but were overjoyed when they realized that their sadness was for naught. His self-proclaimed exile was his to his own, for whatever reasons he pleased, and as wonderful it would be to excuse it as another story for another time, it isn't up to us to determine which parts of the lives of our friends and family we understand. He had his reasons for running, those of which he hopes to never express, and those of which Cecil and Carlos may never understand. This unknowing, at first, irked them, but no sooner had they learned to accept this unknowing than they accepted Kevin back into their lives.

Life, experience, doesn't always have a moral. There is nothing to take, sometimes, from a story or narrative, other than "life goes on." It's not false, just simplified. Things happen. Things change. Things are taught and things are taken away. Lives are lost as quickly as they come in this world, and yet, it continues to turn. This moment, this slice of life, this pinprick in time will go forgotten in the grand scheme of things, as will all moments, all slices of life. And yet, as this moment passes, life goes on. There will be days before this and days after this with less or more significance than these few hours. There will be good days, bad days, and days in-between. There are no happy endings, no sad endings -- this is the end of this story, but not the end of Cecil's, nor Carlos', nor Kevin's. Simply the end of what is perceived. Even after their stories end, each individual crumbling away under the dirt, there are lives yet to be lived, stories yet to be sung, moments yet to be cherished.

Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.


End file.
